


A Full Bush

by BramwellBern



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23882374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BramwellBern/pseuds/BramwellBern
Summary: Apart from a two-week absence, Bernie never left. Serena is getting a very interesting head start on implementing that garden design of Bernie's.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 13
Kudos: 71





	1. to Plant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lapal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lapal/gifts).



> In honour of World Naked Gardening Day, celebrated every year the first Sunday in May.
> 
> “Observers around the world are encouraged to find an opportunity to strip and tend to whatever garden they have access to -- even if it's public! Then, it asks them to share their experience with someone close.” from UPIs article 'World Naked Gardening Day: As Nature Intended,' 5/1/2015

_a seed_  
_an idea_  
_an image_  
_a kiss_

Bernie had shown up at Holby one afternoon, two weeks after her goodbye salute at Albies door, slamming the desert-beaten notebook on her desk: 

“THIS…THIS is what I want. A pond in the backyard. Silver birches and hydrangeas. And a swing-set for Guinivere.” 

Serena had thumbed through it, running her fingers over the yellow and purple flowers taped to the sandy pages, her eyes glistening as she traced the sinuous lines of shrubs and garden paths. “I want this with you, Serena. I don’t want Nairobi. I want YOU.” The brunette had huffed and hiccoughed during the declaration. Completely unable to respond in words she had launched herself at Bernie fiercely mashing their lips together, pushing her fingers into the blonde curls she loved so, twisting and pulling, vowing to never be so stupid as to let her go again. 

Bernie chuckled whilst setting her empty water glass in the sink, remembering that day and the show that the open blinds in Serena’s office had given AAU. Fletch’s wolf whistle and Donna’s furious clapping had caused both surgeons to flush beet red.  
  
“ **SERENA!** ” she yelled as she walked to the entryway to slip her trainers on.“ **SERENA!** ” It was only May 3, not even noon, and it was approaching 23 Celsius with a clear blue sky. How Serena was going to get any work done out there without sweating away was beyond comprehension. And there was a lot of work to be done if they were to truly follow the gardening plan sketched in that notebook. Geezus. Where WAS she? Bernie stood, pulling her hair back into a ponytail with the elastic she removed from her wrist.

“ **SERENA!** ” No sound but a drip from the kitchen faucet falling into the sink. “ **IF YOU TELL ME WHERE YOU WANT YOUR GARDENING STUFF I’LL HUSTLE IT OUT TO THE BACKYARD BEFORE I GET SETTLED IN THE STUDY.** ”

“You don’t have to yell, Wolfe! I’m not deaf.” Bernie turned and nearly choked on her tongue to see Serena stood on the stairs brandishing a bottle of suntan lotion and a wide-brimmed straw hat, wearing nothing but a beaten old pair of garden clogs. 

“Be a good soldier, will you…rub this on my shoulders and back? There’s so much to be done out in that yard today and I don’t want to get burned.” The big macho army medic shook her head, tongue-tied, stuttering...

“S-Srena! Um..wh..Why aren’t you wearing any clothes…exactly?” Bernie was overcome with an instantaneous yearning—a yearning for Serena’s lips, her skin, her wet, hot…she tried shaking the image out of her head, but opposite schedules, a fussy Guin, and a frazzled Jason and Greta had conspired to see that Bernie and Serena hadn’t been in bed together at the same time for weeks, so her mind was, not surprisingly, dancing with deliciously filthy images and sounds: Serena bent over, maybe her hands pinned down, both of them moving together and Serena pleading for more and harder, their bodies glistening with effort and pleasure, a string of expletives dripping off Serena’s tongue. 

_Damn that 5pm deadline for The Lancet!_

As Bernie worked the lotion into Serena’s back in gentle circles, relishing her already heated skin, she couldn’t help ogling the action on the other side: Serena methodically working the lotion into her generous breasts and over her soft stomach. She let out a whimper, wanting nothing more than to watch this all day long, but just as the tendrils of another dirty daydream broke into consciousness, Serena turned:

“Thank you, darling. I promise to return the favor later on,” she cooed, softly slanting her lips across the blonde’s and sticking her tongue out to lightly trace the seam. “You best get to that article now.” And with a wink she was off, leaving Bernie with no earthly idea why her legs didn’t give way below her.

“Right. Okay. Good,” Bernie exhaled, holding onto the wall for purchase. Serena hadn’t answered the query about why she was naked and, well, she had been too darn keyed up by all those curves to press for an answer. 


	2. to Germinate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie tries to complete her journal article while Serena does yardwork and tries to distract Bernie with her naughtiness...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I've learned my lesson about promising when I can deliver another chapter. Chronic illness and all that goes along with it, along with other interests, see to it that I just can't be as regular about this whole fanfic business as I'd like. Nevertheless, I'm going to strive a bit harder.

germinate (v.)  
to begin to grow and develop  
  


10:00am  
Serena stood outside the shed for a few moments, deep in thought, looking and thinking, treasuring how Bernie had built it for her (with Raf’s and Ric’s help). She hadn’t wanted just any old garden shed, but a proper potting shed—space for seedlings and gardening supplies, as well as a structure with character and beauty, a place of retreat in the garden where they both could disappear.

Before the building had begun, Serena had made it clear that her one wish really was that the little building was not to be some pre-fabricated modern glob of ugliness. Bernie had laughed, ‘duly noted, m’am’ she had said with a salute. In all her wildest dreams, the brunette never thought she would get something as beautiful as what she stood in front of now.

It sat in the furthest reaches of the back of beyond from the house: surrounded by shrubs, the leafy boughs of two large trees partially obscuring its top half, and nestled in the corner where two of the worn, ivy-covered brick garden walls came together. And because it had been built with both reclaimed boards and antiqued many-paned windows, it looked like it had been there years and years and years versus its paltry year and a half. The yellowing chips of white paint and the odd remnant of red always seemed to cast a glow at the end of the day in the setting sun. It looked like it had simply sprung out of the earth on which it stood so natural was it in its spot.

Bernie had built it as a testament to their new life together moving forward, but it meant something much more: it also stood as a symbol of their connection and how it had seemed from the moment they met that they had known and loved one another forever. Neither surgeon had ever considered herself the sentimental sort exactly, and yet here they were—living and loving together, growing green things and flowers a-plenty just as they were growing as two women together, no longer weighed down by the baggage of the past. Every time Serena approached the shed door she was unable to stop her eyes from tearing. A mosaic of broken glass and ceramics in the shape of a heart, ‘for Eternity’ in trauma scrubs blue at its center, shone boldly in the garden light. The shards of red, green, yellow, and complimentary blues used to create the heart itself joined into a pulsating testament of love and commitment no matter what, a perpetual kaleidoscope. It was quite possibly Serena’s favorite part of her outdoor oasis.

12:00pm  
Bernie blew her fringe out of her eyes and skimmed over what she had so far. This article on best practices for setting up a trauma unit was nearly done and she knew it shouldn’t take the entire day to complete the rest, but as the window was open wide to let in the sun and air, she could hear Serena humming and it was muddling her powers of concentration. She had been humming and singing all morning as a matter of fact, but the dulcet tones were moving closer, growing louder, reducing her sentences to phrases and snippets.

“Bernie! This is a rather full bush here,” Serena yelled, “what say you…prune or leave it as is?” Bernie rolled over to the window courtesy of the leather desk chair, her head popping up over the sash all meerkat-like to see the bush in question, but mostly to get a glimpse of the skin she so desperately wanted to stroke and taste.… _Just a little peek and then I’ll finish this drat thing_ , she said to herself, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth as she strained and craned her neck for a better gander. _Oh! Oh my is THAT lovely!_ Bernie was very partial to Serena’s gorgeous arse and there it was on full display as she bent over gathering snipped boughs into a pile.

“So what do you think, Bern? Bern?! Do you think it can wait another season?” Serena brushed the leaves of the bush with the backs and palms of her hand. The bush was downright unruly in its fullness; gorgeous, but unruly. Bernie barely managed to stifle a yelp as she continued to gaze at Serena, her skin glistening in the hot sun—her want growing. She didn’t give a damn about **THAT** bush, but she was positively drooling at the sight of Serena bent over and fondling the leaves of it. The blond stood up out of her seat, pushed her neck up and craned it that much more only to have her hand that rested on the desk skid across its surface on a collection of empty Crunchie wrappers, causing her to lose her balance and land her in a befuddled heap on the floor.

“Whatever you say, S’rena,” she wimpered holding her elbow. “Ouch, dammit!” She hauled herself up slowly and cradled her elbow once again. That woman was going to be the end of her. And now there she stood just outside the window, brandishing secateurs and fondling the leaves of a hydrangea.

“There's something about her hand holding mine, it’s a feeling that's fine, And I just gotta say HEY!,..She’s really got a magical spell, And it's working so well, That I can't get away..” Serena belted as she snipped another branch, the greenery falling to the ground. “Because love grows where my Berenice goes, and nobody knows like me!”

“Dusty Springfield, right?” Bernie absentmindedly inquired trying to regain her focus, a hint of a smile at the edges of her lips.

“What? Oh…NO,” Serena giggled, amused by the blonde’s abysmal knowledge of pop culture. She was feeling positively devilish which always made her giggle, and so she sidled up to the window sash resting her breasts on the sill. “How goes the battle, soldier?” she asked in a low voice, willing and demanding Bernie to look up from the work she was pretending to focus on.

“Well I’m nearly done actually, but the c…un…the conclusion is, um, yeah…that…” the medic stuttered. Serena’s cheeks were rosy and her eyes were sparkling and her, well, _they_ were right _there_. Her left breast was smudged with a bit of dirt while both nipples shone a luscious pink, and beads of sweat dripped down the valley between those lovely breasts. True to form, however, Bernie did her best to not acknowledge the breasts in the room. All that hip swinging and prancing, the bending over and the breasts on the windowsill. Serena knew exactly what she was doing and Bernie wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. Rather, she gathered herself and pretended as best she could that she just didn’t see those two nipples she loved so much staring back at her. Bernie had asked Serena earlier why she was planning on gardening in the buff, but all she had gotten in response was "World Naked Gardening Day, love!," and Serena sauntering off whilst blowing her a kiss, no further explanation. Maybe now was Bernie's chance to press for more information.

“So, you never did tell me what this World Naked Gardening Day is all about. Are you having a laugh?” she asked, her effort at trying to steer Serena away from her naughty and distracting games. Simultaneoulsy, the blonde pulled her shirt away from her skin using it to try and fan the rising heat within which was in danger of giving up her game by spreading out like a red stain from her cheeks to her chest.

“No! I’m serious, love. Happened to see a write up about it whilst I was online last week researching some seed varieties. And I thought why not? Our yard is fenced in and no one can see. It’s simply a way for everyone to enjoy one of this nation’s great pastimes with someone they love whilst also embracing the very natural way we came into the world.”

“Quite,” Bernie responded tracing her lips with a shaking finger, the tip occasionally finding its way into her mouth. Her powers of concentration had mostly served her in good stead on this day, but they were really just about gone now with the sight in front of her, and the lurid scenes playing out in her mind. She pressed her legs together as hard as she could to stave off her burgeoning arousal and turned back to her computer screen, placing her fingers down on the backlit keyboard keys, praying equally hard for Serena to take the cue to leave and let her finish her work.

“Well…I’ll let you get back to it. I know how the Lancet can be about their deadlines." Bernie let out a sigh of relief and took a large swig of water. She peeled back the wrapper on another Crunchie bar and bit off a chunk, determined to succinctly summarize and bullet point all the takeaways a trauma bay developer needed to know.

2:00pm  
“Right. So…last spell check done. Switch these two sentences,” Bernie murmured to herself as tapped away on the keyboard, each click a bit louder than the one before it, a sign of her readiness to be done with this infernal article and also her libido’s impatience. _And….SEND!_ “Thank god that’s done then.”

She had dared to look out the window 45 minutes previous when only a few sentences stood between her and sweet release. She hadn’t heard Serena humming or singing or snipping away for quite some time, the yard gone virtually quiet. How monumentally foolish of her. And how like Serena: the brunette was stretched out on one of the sun loungers enjoying a break from the hot yard work, sunglasses perched on her nose, hat on her head, her back slightly arched, while one hand stirred the ice in the frosty glass of lemonade on the garden table next to her. Private or not, Bernie wasn’t sure she could ever see herself being so bold. She wasn’t ashamed of her body in any way, but there was always that risk wasn’t there, of someone poking their head above the wall or of someone stopping by the house and making their way to the back garden unknowingly. No. Bernie did NOT like that kind of risk, whereas Serena always seemed to be amused by such things, and admittedly, the blonde loved her for it. Especially when she was treated to sights like the one of Serena so carelessly and opening basking in the sun sans clothing.

But whilst Bernie wasn’t prepared to join Serena in parading around in the yard starkers as the day she was born, she did want to somehow match the same spirit that Serena had shown for this whole business. She pulled her shiny new knee high Hunter’s out of the closet and knew that they had to be part of it—color like the darkest shade of green in her old camo fatigues, she loved them because they reminded her of her time in the RAMC, but more because they were a symbol of how she now belonged to Serena and the life they were building together. But how could she accessorize this footwear? She thought and thought whilst combing her fingers through her golden curls, then pulling them back once again into that little ponytail that Serena loved. And it came to her as she looked at herself in the ensuite mirror, applying sunscreen to her nose and cheeks. She smiled. Well, maybe it was more of a smirk. The image of the perfect outfit danced in her mind’s eye.

Prancing around all day, teasing her at every turn with flashes of arse, a breast here and a breast there. Two can play that game, Fraulein. Serena Campbell was going to get as good as she had given!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first started to plan this fic I knew that I wanted to have Serena humming and singing at one point, but what exactly? So I did a brainstorm re: songs with flowers in the title, anything vaguely garden-related. And I came up with this hit from 1970 by English band Edison Lighthouse. There's much here that fits Bernie, I think, and I can definitely hear Serena singing it to her BMAM. Since I can't figure out how to put a workable link here, you'll have to copy and paste. 
> 
> https://youtu.be/OqcDG_xLWPY

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea rumbling around in my head, and in various notes for well over a year now but just haven't had the motivation to really get down to it. This is the first of 3 parts, and fingers crossed the remaining two come relatively quickly. Seeing as I made a dear friend wait so very long for this fic, it really is for her. Thank you to anyone and everyone who reads and even marginally enjoys it or gets a chuckle.


End file.
